1. |
Meat Magnate Mackey
01:48
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Meat Magnate Mackey
Showing polaroids of his baloney pony
All made up to look Swedish
Photoshopped to seem young
Got that shine to look tasty
Stirrups flash in the sun
"Ain't she a beaut!" he bellows
Faint of heart hide your eyes
You pass that bill promptly
He'll let you go for a ride
Oh, but it looks so unhealthy!
Grey and dry on the sides
Don't you think you should rest it?
"Not at all!" he replies
'Cause in the Gainer container all bets are off
And you'll learn to love yourself
If you can't catch a wave or grind your spurs
Just pretend you're someone else
Bank Bigwig Bentley
Stole the polaroids of the baloney pony
Found them perched on a humidor
as Mackey was chewing a bone
Spread some grease on his abdomen
And made his new photos a home
Oh! But they chafe something dreadful
especially when you're squirming prone
don't you think you should remove them?
"Not at all!" Bentley moans...
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2. |
Prologue
01:56
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3. |
Special Dad
00:56
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Gainer's got a Special Dad
The only one he's ever had
A portrait that can talk and think
and scheme and drink...
As a young man
Boomwaggle's thighs ran
with the grease, no peace
doctors said it wouldn't cease
Each day the ooze flowed
as the quantity would grow
So he had an operation
a 2-D regeneration
Now he's rendered in oils
never ages: he's the sagest
when his passions on the boil
Gainer was a special lad
a product of his portrait dad
Spawned in labs and raised to serve
his father's word...
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4. |
Before the Brisket Party
02:13
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5. |
Pete Seeger Songs
00:37
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He will only work that shlong
if Pete Seeger's on
He can only reach heaven
if Pete's turned to eleven
The only way to pull his levers
is to spin cuts by the Weavers
Not Woody, nor Arlo
nor Bobby, or Joan
But just Pete, singing "This Land..."
Can make Gainer groan
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6. |
After the Brisket Party
00:54
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7. |
Plots and Thighs Pt. 1
02:12
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8. |
Grease of the Thighs
00:59
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When I was at prep school I had a whole bunk to myself
like a lonely monk by myself
'cept for shower days
when I'd run through the spray and howls
of upperclassmen thugs with snapping towels singing:
"Where didja get those thighs my lad
Where didja get those thighs?
With grease that seeps from an oily deep
Like Frankenstein, we'll drive you far away!"
There are still times when all I do is moan
When wrapping my thighs at our country home
Muffy goes for a walk - she knows to give me some space
When I have to slip and slide in the
Grease of my thighs
Grease of my grease of my
Thighs
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9. |
Plots and Thighs Pt. 2
02:12
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10. |
Maggie's Taxi Ride
01:03
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11. |
Falucci and the Wine Bar
03:32
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12. |
Gainer Works the Phones
01:07
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13. |
Wild Brisket Parties
01:17
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Whada I gotta do to put you in a brisket party?
It's a way to brush off shame
It's the flex of the pubis
Like a pierogi with moving parts
You'll never get the stretch marks outta your thumbs
You'll never get the smell out of your tongue
Wanna taste that shine?
Wanna watch men find themselves?
Wanna fill your colon with smoke?
Why don't you taste the flame?
Why don't you suck the blade?
Why doncha swing the gavel 'round
Give it up
Give it up
You're running trains on entitlement reforms all day
Give it up
Give it up
Time to swank and drop a load
Hoover lines of blow off a row of dinner rolls
Whatta I gotta do to getcha in a brisket party?
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14. |
Trouble!
02:13
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15. |
Murder!
01:43
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Gainer knows the justice'll be alone
He's even got a key to Falucci's home
Finds him greased and prone
Watching passion plays on his phone
Exploring Jesus with his thumbs
Licking wafer crumbs
But then!
Three stabs to the back
One down two to go
Three stabs to the back
One down two to go
Through the rain drives a hummer to J. Finley's hotel
Finds him solo in the lounge
reading letters on the couch
snorting 'caine through a rolled up program
tapping rhythms with his hands
Three shots to the dome
Two down one to go
Three shots to the dome
Two down one to go
Now it's late and he's oh-so-tired
only schemes of dreams in feather beds
and scented steams
to wash his greasy creams
'Cause killing is a young stallion's game
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16. |
Maggie Can Take a Hint
00:36
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Maggie takes the hint
She can read between the lines
She anticipates the snap of the neck
and her cries
She knows that Gainer's got her marked
because whatever Falucci spilled
He should have kept it in his sack
Should have rubbed it out in private
Should have kept that knowledge quiet
One death could be an accident
but two must prove a fact:
that in a room
on a wall
is a painting with a killer at his beck and call
However mad it seems two corpses mean
the world is filled with lies and spies
and twists and turns
and now she knows her only hope is striking first
and now she knows her only hope is striking first
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17. |
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18. |
Maggie's Plan
00:38
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19. |
The Afterglow
01:10
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20. |
Steam and Grease
01:59
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Gainer's getting slathered with the steam
dreaming of the creams he deems appropriate
to love his body
when it seems to him
the pants he wore before he slung them 'cross a beam
were lighter than they should have been.
Damn it all!
his keys are missing
he suddenly recalls them twisting to the bottom
of a tub of gin
after Senator Mike Rzewski raised concerns
about the burn scars he got in 'Nam
chafing accidentally against the jagged metal
swinging jauntily from Gainer's belt
"Have a drink!" shrieked Gainer to his keychain
as he flung it'cross the room
and returned to the pleasure that was his duty
and his due
That was seven hours ago
and surely those keys remained
nestled at the bottom of that silver pool
"Damn it all!"
he bellows as he drags himself
away from steam and dreams
to head upstairs for the keys
but then to find that few things are just as they seem
Maggie follows Kent's grease trail across the floor
discovers those keys poorly hidden in a drawer
takes a look around and thinks it's safe
Opens up the door with a smile on her face
Oh, the secrets you will find
Oh, the shame you kept inside
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21. |
The Secret Chamber
00:59
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22. |
Pitter Patter
00:48
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23. |
The Seduction
02:26
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24. |
Boomwaggle
00:46
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He will always be
He has always been
Boomwaggle always wins
Oh, Boomwaggle always wins
Always will he be
Always has he been
Boomwaggle always wins
Oh, Boomwaggle always wins
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Joseph White Brooklyn, New York
Joseph White is a composer and performer in Brooklyn.
Contact: joewhitenoise@gmail.com
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